


The Innocent Series

by EmilyFairy



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Middle School, Cute, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Innocent Series, Kid Fic, M/M, Pre-Whose line Is It Anyway?, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-05-03 02:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14558793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyFairy/pseuds/EmilyFairy
Summary: What would happen if Colin and Ryan knew each other in middle and high school?[ Read this classic series, which willfinallybe completed! :) ]





	1. Innocent Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story in The Innocent Series, first written in 2006. And after a "slight" ( *mutters* 12 year ) hiatus I am actually going to _finish_ this puppy! *flashes victory sign* I'm going to post it as a chaptered work just so I'm not clogging up the page with a bunch of individual stories, but it's actually a series of connected short stories. It has a higher rating for later stories, but most of the early stories are very PG, I promise. :) 
> 
> Colin just turned fourteen and Ryan is twelve-going-on-thirteen in this, and it's set during Christmas of 1971. Oh, and it's a Ryan POV. 
> 
> Warning, much cute ahead. :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Colin and Ryan exchange gifts on Christmas.

I'm lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, mainly 'cause I can. It's Christmas vacation, a light snow is falling, and I've been blessed with freedom. No chores, no "helping" my dad, no homework. Okay, maybe I do have some homework. But there's no way I'm doing it yet. Christmas vacation just _started_. And my older brother's outside shoveling, so for once I have the room all to myself. 

I love Christmas vacation. 

"Ryan! Colin's here!" my mom yells.

My head pops up and I spring off my bed and run downstairs, eager to hang out with my best friend. I haven't seen him since school let out. He probably did all his homework first. He's a good student, practically teacher's pet. Unlike me. Teachers always hate me.

Colin is sitting on the couch in the living room, struggling with the zipper on his coat. I pause on the last step and watch him. His brown hair is flopping into his eyes, as usual, and his brow is furrowed as he concentrates on prying out the bit of fabric caught in the zipper. 

I sigh and shake my head as I walk over to the couch and bat his hands away, easily untangling the fabric with my fingers. 

Colin blushes while I give him my best cocky smile. "I could've got it," he says. 

I help him out of his coat and toss it onto the couch indifferently. "Yeah? When? New Years?" 

Colin picks up the coat and folds it, hanging it over the arm. "Hopefully before that." 

"You'd still be here on Groundhog Day," I tease. 

Colin grins and kicks me. "Bastard," he says, but I know he's only kidding around. 

I glance at the wrapped gift sitting next to him. "Is that for me?"

"Ha! Like I'd get you a present," Colin says in mock disgust. 

I scrunch my nose at him and casually give him the finger. "Well, if it's not for me, then who is it for?" 

Colin shrugs. "It was here when I got here." 

"Liar," I say. 

I can see his lower lip trembling, and I watch him bite it. I wait, with my arms crossed. And then he looks up at me through his long eyelashes and bursts out laughing, and I know I won. 

"Umm, Merry Christmas?" he says, holding out the gift.

"Wait, I got something for you too. Why don't we go up to my room?" 

"All right," Colin agrees. I help him up off the couch without even thinking about it. 

And when we reach the stairs it becomes a race. I'm a little taller, but he's a little faster, and he pulls ahead of me as we pound upstairs. I grunt and work harder, but he's already at the top, grinning down at me and tapping his watch. 

"Took you long enough," he says. 

"Fuck," I whisper, 'cause I don't want my mom to hear me and wash my mouth out with soap again. 

I vow I'll beat him next time. 

We walk into my room, and it's still empty. I can hear the sounds of the shovel scraping snow off the driveway outside, but I don't feel sorry for my brother at all. Usually I'm the one out there busting my ass in the cold. 

I sit beside him on the floor, both of us leaning against my bed. We smile at each other, and I slide over a little, letting our shoulders brush together. "Here," Colin says, placing the gift into my hands. 

I tear off the neatly wrapped paper in about five seconds. "Hey, a '65 Lincoln! Cool!" I exclaim as I read the model car box. "I'm gonna have one of these for real someday." 

"I know, you told me," Colin replies, and for a moment all I can do is blink at him.

It amazes me all over again that I have a best friend, someone who actually listens to me, and even cares about what I have to say. When we lived in Seattle, I was always kind of a loner. I got in trouble a lot in school, and no one really wanted to be my friend. But then when we moved to Vancouver, I met Colin, and it was like I found this missing piece to fill up that empty spot inside of me. And I know that's totally cheesy, and I'd never say it out loud to him, but I don't have to, 'cause the thing about Colin is, he already knows. 

It's a little scary that I've only known him for about two years and I already feel like he knows me better than anyone. 

I reach over and give him a hug. He's warm and he smells like shampoo and laundry detergent. For some reason it makes me feel all dizzy inside, like last year when I went on the Tilt-A-Whirl at the carnival five times in a row. 

"Thanks, Col," I say, pulling back, and before I can think about it I give him a little peck on the lips. 

It's nothing, really, even if it does feel kinda good, but he blushes and ducks his head. I can see the dimples creasing his cheeks. He is so cute, with those little pieces of hair spilling over his forehead, and his hands are fidgeting against my back. 

I reach out one hand and brush his hair back, and he looks up at me with shining brown eyes that make me feel like I'm melting. I envy how open he is, how clearly he lets his feelings show on his face. I smirk at him, and my hand trails down his cheek, cupping it. And our faces are moving closer… 

When our lips touch, he's soft and sweet and heat spreads from my lips all the way down to my toes. Completely different from the time I kissed that girl on a dare back in fourth grade. 

We break away, and he turns his head, gasping. His face is flushed and his hair is in his eyes again, and when he smiles at me I instantly smile back. I can still feel the gentle press of his kiss, and all I can think is that he's just so damn innocent, even if he is older than me. Sometimes I feel like he's my age, or maybe even younger. Like, I have to take care of him. 

I'm finding that I like taking care of him. 

"Uh, here," I breathe, a little embarrassed at how I'm panting when we barely even kissed. 

I reach under my bed and pull out his present, wrapped in crinkled paper with too much tape. 

"Thanks," he says, taking it from me. 

He stares at it, turning it over in his hands for a moment. And then he carefully unwraps it, pulling the paper apart like it's one of his science experiments. He wants to be a marine biologist when he grows up. 

He grins when he sees the latest Batman and Superman comics. "Comics!" he says. "Thanks, Ry. Did you read 'em already?"

"No," I say. "I was waiting for you." 

He hands me Superman, which is both of our favorite, and takes Batman for himself. I give him back Superman, and reach for Batman. "They're yours," I say. "You get first pick." 

He smiles at me, that shy smile that always manages to turn me inside out. "Okay," he says, shrugging. But I know he's grateful. 

We lose ourselves in the comics, stretching out on the floor. I can barely concentrate on Batman, and I wonder if he's struggling with Superman. He keeps shooting little glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and biting his lip. It's like there's this energy crackling between us all of a sudden. It should weird me out, considering he's my best friend, and a guy besides, but it just feels natural. Like it's how things are supposed to be. 

"Col?" I ask, without looking up from the page I'm reading. 

"Hmm?" 

"Can we… do that again sometime?" And I nudge him.

His lip quivers, and he blushes, and just like that I win again. "Umm… sure," he croaks.

And in my head I'm already planning our second kiss…


	2. Innocent Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Colin play tag in the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second story in The Innocent Series. Colin is fourteen, and Ryan is twelve-going-on-thirteen in this, and it's set during February of 1972. The rating is PG again. 
> 
> Oh, and this time it's a Colin POV.

I'm helping my mom with the lunch dishes because Dad's out in the garage tinkering with the car again, and my ungrateful younger brother and sister abandoned me to go out and make a snowman in the backyard. It seems like they only get along when they want to get out of doing chores. Mom's washing, I'm drying, and I can't wait to get this over with. 

It's not that I mind spending time with my mom, 'cause you know, I love her and everything, but it's Saturday afternoon. Yeah, it's freezing outside, and there's a pile of snow on the ground, but I still want to get out, enjoy the day. Because Saturday only comes once a week, and I think you have to make the most out of it. 

The front doorbell rings. Mom's arm deep in dishwater, so I say, "I'll get it!" I drop my towel and race towards the front door. 

When I throw it open, I'm face to face with Ryan, my best friend. He's all bundled up, wearing a knit cap, with a scarf wrapped around the bottom half of his face. All I can see are his eyes, sparkling bright green in the sunshine. 

"Hey, Ry!" I exclaim, grinning at him. I know I look like an idiot but I can't stop. 

He pulls down the scarf and smiles crookedly at me. "Hey, Col," he says. "Can you come out?" 

"Hold on, let me go ask my mom," I say. "C'mon in."

I snicker at him when he takes off his cap. His sweaty blonde curls are sticking up every which way, making him look like he just woke up. He glares at me, and I smooth them down with my palms, trying to make peace. His hair is soft and a little wet, and I run my fingers through it. His eyes close for a second, and I wonder if he likes it before I snatch my hands away. 

I just know I'm blushing, and he's blinking at me funny. "Um... I'll be right back?" I whisper, running out of the family room and back into the kitchen like something's chasing me. 

"Colin! Slow down!" my mom lectures me, and I obey. I don't want her mad at me, or else she won't let me see Ryan. "Who was that at the door?" 

"Ryan. Can we go out?" I look up at her, cocking my head. My mom's always a sucker for my puppydog eyes. 

She sighs, shaking her head, but she's smiling and that's a good sign. "All right," she says, ruffling my hair. "I'm almost done anyway, so I suppose I can finish up here myself. You just make sure you're home by dinner time, all right?" 

"Okay," I promise, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom!" 

And I scamper off. Behind me she calls out, "Colin! I thought I told you not to run!"

"Sorry!" And I slow down, but only a little 'cause I want to get back to Ryan.

I grin at Ryan, giving him the thumbs up, and he thumps me on the back with gloved fingers. He's holding out my coat, and he helps me into it. And I know I can do it myself, but I kinda like it when he does that, so I don't say anything. 

I pull on my gloves, and he hands me his scarf. "I don't need it," he says. "Got my hat." 

I shrug and take the scarf, wrapping it around my neck. It smells like Ryan a little bit, spices and peppermint candy. "Thanks." 

His lips twitch, and his eyes soften. "C'mon. Let's get out of here." And he grabs my hand, pulling me outside. 

I latch the door behind us, and we step down the front walk. We both realize we're still holding hands at the same time, and we exchange guilty looks. "Uh…" he says.

"Um…" I say.

We both drop hands and step away from each other, laughing nervously. He shoves me, and I shove him back. And he chases me through the neighborhood until we wind up at the park on the corner. 

It's too cold and snowy for many kids to be out today, even though the sun is shining and the sky is a bright, clear blue. In fact, the only other person we see is Old Mitch, the half crazy elderly guy who's always out walking his dog, a high strung poodle named Miss Pretty. Ryan calls them "Old Mitch and his bitch". 

We steer clear of Old Mitch, because the last time we were here and he saw us, we wound up listening to one of his World War I hero stories for what felt like hours. And the worst part was, it didn't even make any sense, because he kept mixing in his opinions on hot dog fillers, telling us about the time he went down to the States to work in Vaudeville, and asking us what our favorite Nancy Drew books were. Crazy stuff like that. 

The only thing that conversation was good for was making Ryan laugh. He has a great laugh that spreads through his whole body. Sometimes even his fingers and toes seem to curl with laughter. It's the only time Ryan ever lets go, and for that reason alone I love to make him laugh. 

We sit on the swings for a while, kicking our legs aimlessly. But the chains are frozen, and the seats are slick with ice. "This is boring," Ryan grumbles. "Let's play tag!"

"In the snow?" I ask, picturing slipping and falling and breaking my neck.

"C'mon, Col, live a little," Ryan says, nudging me with his shoulder. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I think I left it at home, in my room," I say, standing up. 

He groans, and it looks like he's about to yell at me, but I bend down and tap his arm. "You're It!" I exclaim, dancing out of reach. I just love to mess with Ryan's head, do stuff he doesn't expect. 

He gapes at me for a second, and then he smiles, like a predator about to pounce. He springs out of the seat and darts after me. I race away, glancing over my shoulder every once in a while to make sure he's following me. 

Usually I'm faster than he is, and he almost never catches me when we play tag. Once last summer we played for two hours straight and he was It the whole time. But this time… I don't know what it is, but this time, I want him to catch me. Maybe it's 'cause I'm nervous about running around in the snow, or maybe… maybe I just want something else. 

He kissed me once, right before Christmas. We haven't really talked about it, except for afterwards when he asked me if it was all right to try that again sometime. And it's not like I want to kiss him all the time or anything like that, 'cause that would be a little weird, but I have to admit that I'm wondering why he hasn't yet. I mean, it's been almost two months. Maybe he forgot. 

Or maybe he's waiting for me? I don't know. But I can't… he should know I can't. I blush just thinking about that day in his room, his soft and slightly chapped lips against mine, his hand warm on my cheek. The way the lights seemed brighter afterwards, and warmth spread through my body, like I'd just drank a giant cup of hot chocolate without letting it cool down first… only it was all over, not just in my stomach. 

He grabs my hand. "Gotcha!" 

I try to wiggle away, but he braces his feet in the snow. "Let me go!"

"No way," he breathes. "C'mere." 

And he pulls me towards him, until I'm facing him. I'm close enough to stand in the clouds of his breath hitting the cool air, close enough to see the little flecks in his eyes. He smirks at me, and after a moment it melts into a smile, one of those rare real smiles that light up his whole face. 

My heart's pounding and I don't think it's from all the running. "I'm gonna let you go now, okay?" he says.

I nod, and he drops my hand, but I don't move away. I can't. 

And he's just so… I want to say cute, but I don't think that's the right word. He's just so _Ryan_ , standing there in front of me wearing that ridiculous cap with the pom-pom on the top, smiling down into my face. I feel like I drank _two_ cups of hot chocolate, and he hasn't even done anything except stare at me. 

He glances around, I guess like he's making sure we're alone, and then he kisses me. His lips move against mine this time, and I copy him, whimpering in my throat each time we touch. His lips are cold at first, but they warm up, and all I can do is just close my eyes and let the hot chocolate feeling coat me everywhere. 

And when he pulls away I'm tingling like my foot fell asleep, and he's gasping, his eyes warm and flickering. I think my entire face must be as red as my little brother's Radio Flyer wagon. And when I lick my lips he tastes like cherry Popsicle, and I think to myself that only Ryan would eat a cherry Popsicle in the middle of winter. 

"You didn't think I forgot, did you?" he asks, and I want to kiss the smirk off his face, but before I can he's running away. 

"Oh yeah, and you're It!" he calls over his shoulder.

And I chase after him through the snow, sure that I will catch him.


	3. Innocent Birthdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Ryan's thirteenth birthday, and Colin has something special planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the third story in The Innocent Series. Colin is fourteen, and Ryan is turning thirteen (since it's his birthday and all *grins*), and it's set in April of 1972. And this is a Ryan POV.

It's my thirteenth birthday, which is a really big deal in my family, and all these relatives I barely even know are swarming my house. And if my Great Aunt Georgina pinches my cheek one more time I am going to lock myself in my room and I don't care what they do with my presents. 

Well, maybe that's not true. I have to admit, the pile in the living room looks awfully impressive. I can't wait to rip into all the wrapping paper, and make a huge mess. And Mom won't even be able to yell at me, because it's my birthday and I can do whatever I want. 

Try telling that to Robert, my older brother. Well, all my brothers are older. I'm the baby in the family, which they never let me forget. Robert's only a year older than me, so we got stuck sharing a room. I hate sharing a room, and I can't wait to move out of this crowded house and have my own space. 

Anyway, Robert's been bugging me all night. Following me around, teasing me. He gave me thirteen spankings and a pinch to grow an inch, even though growing an inch is the last thing I need to do. I'm already the tallest in my class, and my mom's starting to worry that I won't fit into any of Robert's hand-me-downs at this rate. Good, I say. I especially hate wearing his old shoes. When I grow up I'm only going to have nice, new shoes. 

"Ooh, Ryan!" Robert yells. "I think your little boyfriend is here!" 

I smack him, and he dashes off, snickering. I hate it when he says that about Colin. Even if it might kinda-sorta be true, but I don't know. I guess I still think of Colin as my best friend, even if I have kissed him a few times. But it's not like we do it all the time. Most of the time we just hang out together, riding bikes or playing ball outside. And okay, lately I've been paying for his comics, and he's been bringing me cookies he helped bake with his mom, but so what? 

I glance around, and there he is, blinking at my family in all their loud, annoying glory. He coughs and waves a cloud of cigarette smoke away, and I rush up to him, pulling him out of the way. 

He smiles, dimples flashing, and I can't help but smile back. "Hey, Ry," he says. At least, I think that's what he says. His voice is so soft I can barely hear it. 

"Hey, Col," I say. I glance around to make sure no one's watching and give him a little one-armed hug around the shoulder. 

"Happy birthday," he says, pressing his cheek against my neck for a second. 

"Thanks," I say, and maybe all the noise is getting to me 'cause I'm feeling all light-headed again. Or maybe it's just the way he's looking at me, lips twitching like he's got a secret… 

"Um, I have something for you," he says, and he's blushing. 

I stare down at his empty hands. "Air? Gee, thanks, Col. I guess I can never have enough of that." 

He laughs and shoves me. "No!" he exclaims. "It's, um, a surprise. Can you meet me outside by the garage in ten minutes?" 

I pretend to think about it for a moment, while he pretends like he's not desperate for my answer. "Yeah, I'll meet you," I finally decide. 

That mischievous grin spreads across his face, making me wonder what the hell he's up to. But before I can ask him, he disappears. And I just pray that Great Aunt Georgina won't pinch _his_ cheek too. He's a million times cuter than me, after all. 

I waste ten minutes that I'll never get back listening to my cousin Pam telling me about how she had to dissect a frog this year in science class. She doesn't leave anything out, and I'm starting to feel as green as the poor frog, when I look at the clock and realize it's time to meet Colin. So I do the polite thing. I cut her off by telling her I have pee really bad and run away before she can stop me. 

For some reason my heart's thudding in my chest as I make my escape through the back door. The night air is cool against my bare arms, but I don't mind. It feels nice, after being trapped in that stuffy house. 

When I reach the garage, he's not there, so I lean against the side and wait. I can see a few feet ahead of me, thanks to the all the lights in the house, so I'll know when he shows up. But if this is a joke, he's dead. 

He emerges in front of me, and there's something different about him tonight. He walks straighter, taller, than he usually does. He looks more confident, and the smile on his face… I've never seen him smile like that before. It reminds me of my neighbor's cat, right before she pounces on something in the grass. 

I gulp, and he strides towards me. His hands spread above my shoulders on either side of me, trapping me against the garage. His smile turns into an outright grin, and I'm just blinking at him, completely shocked. Whatever happened to my shy, blushing little Colin? 

I start to lean forward, wanting to get closer, but he pulls back, shaking his head. I settle back against the garage, and he moves in again, pinning me. His head starts moving towards me, and my heart's going so fast I think someone might have to call the ambulance for me. 

And then I realize his hair is flopping into his dancing brown eyes, and I know that he's still my Colin, even if isn't acting like he usually does. And when he kisses me, he's just as soft as I remember, and all of a sudden it feels like it's the middle of summer outside instead of a chilly April evening. 

Something warm and wet slides over my bottom lip, and I gasp against his mouth, my eyes flying open, because no way. No way did my best friend just… and I feel it again, slipping in between my parted lips, and I can taste his toothpaste. I touch his tongue with mine, and now it's like December because there's goosebumps all down my arms, and oh my God, where the hell did he learn to do that swirly thing? 

And when he draws back his eyes are darker than normal, and he's grinning like a shark, teeth white and flashing in the dim light. All I can do is stare at him, my head thudding against the garage, my chest heaving up and down like he's been chasing me for ten blocks. 

"Happy birthday," he whispers, and his voice sounds different, all smoky and deep, but I think he's blushing too. 

He gives me one last smile, his usual sweet one that never fails to make me all fluttery inside, and walks away. 

And all of the presents sitting on the coffee table back in the house don't mean a thing to me anymore. 

*** 

I pass by Colin's house the next day, and he's sitting outside on the front steps, deep in thought. His bangs are hanging in his eyes, and he has the softest smile on his face. I cut across his lawn from the side, not wanting him to catch sight of me. I duck through the bushes in front of his house, getting all brambly and prickly, but it'll be worth it when I approach him from behind and scare the living shit out of him. 

"Hey, Ry," he says when I lay a hand on his shoulder. He doesn't even turn around. 

"Fuck," I say, and he swivels to look at me. "How do you _do_ that?" 

"I just… know your hands," he says, shrugging. 

And the freaky thing is, I know exactly what he means. "Good thoughts?" I ask him, joining him on the step. Our knees brush together, but I don't pull away, and he doesn't either. 

"Mm hmm," he says, looking down at his lap. 

I think he's little embarrassed about what happened last night, so I try to make him feel better about it. "Thanks for your present," I say, grinning at him. 

He ducks his head even further, slouching his shoulders. 

"I really liked it," I try again, turning to face him. "Like, a lot." 

He glances up at me through his eyelashes, and he looks as red as he did last year, after his family got back from the beach and he forgot to put on his sunscreen. "Yeah?" he says uncertainly, biting his lip. 

And for a minute I don't even care that we're in the front yard where the whole neighborhood can see, because I absolutely have to hug him. Because he has to know. He has to know how I feel about him, and sometimes the only way I can do that is by touching him. 

"Did you practice that or something?" I tease him after we let go. 

He shakes his head, eyes wide. "No. Did _you_?" he gasps. 

I laugh at the horrified expression on his face. "No way," I say. I want to tell him that he's the only one I'd ever want to practice that kind of thing on, but I don't think I have to. "Uh, listen, do you want to go to the store or something? My treat." I pat my pocket and listen to the change jingling. 

And I don't know why my palms are all sweaty, why I'm holding my breath while I wait for his answer. "Sure," he says, and I help him up a little giddily. 

"Should we take our bikes?" 

"Nah," he says. "Let's walk." 

He lets me hold his hand, at least until we get to the end of the driveway. Then we start talking about comics, because he heard from his little brother that the new Superman was out. The excitement in his voice is unmistakable, and we speculate over what it's going to be about. 

And I know that when we reach the store I'm going to buy him two of his favorite candy bar, and the new Superman.


	4. Innocent Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Colin camp out in Colin's backyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the fourth story in The Innocent Series. This is probably my favorite story in the series. It's a bit more serious than the others, 'cause they're getting older now, but still cute, I hope. *grin* Oh, and it's a Colin POV again. 
> 
> Colin is fourteen, and Ryan is thirteen, and it's set in July of 1972.

I'm laying back on the hammock in our backyard, swinging back and forth in the breeze. In my hands I hold a cool new book I discovered at the book shop the other day called _The Outsiders_. Mr. Andrews, who owns the shop, told me that it was published a few years ago by a girl who was only sixteen years old at the time.

The story's really good so far, and I'm amazed that someone only a couple years older than me wrote this. Now that is talent. I'm only hoping that someday I can find the thing that I'm good at. I'm just reading the part where Johnny and Ponyboy arrive at the church in the country, when a shadow falls across me. 

I glance up, and it's Ryan, wearing a pair of old cut-offs, hands on his hips. My heart flutters at the sight of him, and I find myself staring at the blonde hair growing on his legs. "Oh, Col," he groans. "You're reading _again_?"

"I like reading," I say from around my book. 

"I know, but it's summer vacation! And it's a beautiful day, and you're reading a boring old book!" 

We have this conversation at least fifty times every summer, and Ryan still can't get it through his thick skull that for me, reading is fun. "You like comics though," I say.

"But comics are different. You don't have to spend forever figuring out a comic. You can read one in like ten minutes. Books take too long." That crease between Ryan's eyebrows deepens, and he frowns at me. 

"You know why you think books are boring?" I say, sitting up, my book lying forgotten in my lap. "Because you only read the ones for school."

"But you like those books too," Ryan says, pushing in next to me in the hammock. The added weight makes it sag dangerously for a moment, but then the ropes stretch and everything's all right again. "And don't bother to deny it 'cause I've read your book reports." 

"You tried to _copy_ my book reports," I correct, nudging him. 

He laughs. "I still don't know why you wouldn't let me." 

But I don't want to get into that with him again. "Yeah, I like the books for school," I say. "But that's 'cause I've been reading for a long time, and I've learned to like a lot of different stories. But books for school aren't the best books to start out on, and I think a lot of kids think that all books are like that. But they aren't. There's books about pirates, cowboys, space aliens…" 

"Do they have books that are like comics?" 

"Well, kind of," I say. "There's lots of books about adventures, like the ones the superheroes go on in the comics. With bad guys and fights and everything else." 

"Really?" Ryan asks, and I'm amazed that he actually appears interested. 

"Yeah," I say. "I have a bunch of 'em in my room. You can borrow a couple, if you want." 

"Maybe," Ryan says, his mouth twitching. And I think that he actually will. "Now get your ass off this hammock. I need a Slurpee, and you've been selected at random as the lucky guy to accompany me to the store." 

"I don't know," I say, stretching my arms out teasingly. "This book is awfully good…"

He whacks me on the shoulder, playing along. "Well, I was going to offer to buy you a Slurpee, but now…"

"You can still buy me a Slurpee," I say, reaching for my book. "And I'll be right here waiting for it."

He gapes at me, like he can't tell if I'm serious or not. "But it'll get all melted by the time I make it back."

"Then you better hurry," I say, leaning back against the hammock and opening my book. A giggle escapes through my lips before I can stop it, and he stares at me. 

"Fuck," he whispers, batting the book out of my hands, sending it tumbling to the grass below. "You're such a bastard." 

And he tickles me, fingers poking my ribs, head leaning against mine. I curl into a ball to protect myself, laughing my ass off while he practically climbs on top of me trying to pry me apart. The hammock sways dizzily, and I tickle him too, and we laugh until we're both sprawled out on our backs, chests heaving, arms flopping over the sides. My knuckles brush the grass, and his bony shoulder rubs against mine, and when he gives me a lopsided grin my stomach rolls over. 

"You wanna camp out tonight?" I ask him. "My dad'll let me borrow his tent, I bet." 

"Yeah, okay," he says, shrugging like he doesn't care. 

But I know he likes the idea because I can see the light in his eyes. I wonder if he's thinking about the two of us, together in Dad's tent. We camped out a couple times last summer, but this year… I have a feeling this year it'll be a little different. 

"Ry?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm still waiting for my Slurpee."

And when he holds out his hands like he's going to start tickling me again, I leap out of the hammock and run towards the house. It's not like I want to make it easy for him.

***

It's early evening now, and I have a cherry Slurpee sloshing in my stomach. Ryan's lips are still faintly blue, and when he grins his teeth are blue too. We're sitting inside the tent, sharing a bag of potato chips between us, our sleeping bags waiting for whenever we finally get tired enough to actually sleep. A couple lanterns hang above us, providing extra light.

"Your move," I say, gesturing to the chess board. 

"I hate chess," he grumbles, staring down at the board. "It always makes me feel so stupid." 

"You're not stupid," I tell him. I can't stand it when he starts talking like this. 

"I am!" he says, banging his fists down, causing the pieces to scatter every which way. "I can't figure out this shit like you can." 

I push away the chips, wipe my greasy fingers on my shorts, and scoot next to him, laying a hand on his knee. "You're not," I say. "You're _not_ , Ry." 

"Yeah, and that's why I'm lucky if I pass my classes half the time. I almost got stuck in summer school this year, Miss Hopewell told me. If you hadn't helped me study for my final exams, hell… that's how close it was. If I would've flunked those…" And he rubs the side of his face, staring down at his lap. 

"So? Just 'cause you don't get the best grades doesn't mean you're stupid. You're really smart, Ry. Remember when we built that ferris wheel with my Erector Set? That's the hardest thing to build in the whole set, and we did it."

Ryan sighs, shoulders sagging, and I know he doesn't believe me. And I'd give up my entire collection of comics to make him believe, to show him everything that I see in him. He's funny, and he's cool, and he _is_ smart, no matter what he says, what he thinks. He wouldn't be my best friend if he wasn't.

"Yeah, sure," he says. "Guess it doesn't matter anyway. It's not like I'm going to university or anything. Not like my parents can afford it with all of us." 

I blink at him, wondering where this is all coming from. "Why would you want to go to university anyway? I thought you hated school." 

He looks up at me then, and I almost want to jump back when I see the ferocity in his eyes. "'Cause _you're_ going to university, aren't you? And… you might…" His eyes fall downward again, and he picks at one of the scabs on his elbow, his voice soft and a little scared. "You might… find someone you like better than me. And you'll forget all about me." 

Oh. _Oh._ I want to hug him, but I content myself with patting his knee. When that doesn't work, I tilt his chin up, forcing him to look at me. "That's years from now," I say. "And it won't happen anyway, 'cause you're my best friend. And I will never, ever forget you." 

And the next thing I know he's clutching me tight, pushing himself into me until he's almost in my lap, and I can feel shudders passing through his skinny frame. I stroke his hair, sifting through the patterns of his long curls with my fingers, and he sighs, burying his face into my shoulder. For a moment, he allows me to hold him, and then he shoves me away. He busies himself with straightening the chess pieces he knocked over, avoiding my eyes like he wants to forget the whole thing. 

But I won't forget.

***

Around seven-thirty my mom brings us out a plateful of hot dogs, with melted cheese on top as an extra special treat, and a pitcher full of iced tea. She tells us that my little brother and sister have been banned from the backyard tonight, and she's keeping a close eye on them to make sure they won't be bothering us after all the pranks they pulled on us during last year's campouts. I think Sarah has a crush on Ryan, because lately she's been hanging around my room whenever he comes over.

It makes it really hard to sneak kisses, but Ryan always laughs about it and that's good enough for me. 

Once my mom's gone we turn off the lanterns, break out the flashlights, and tell what feels like a thousand ghost stories while we devour the hotdogs and scare ourselves silly. And by the time we're done, it's after nine, and I guess Mom did manage to keep my siblings under control 'cause it's now past their bedtime and they didn't prank us once. 

Ryan reaches up to turn on one of the lanterns again, and switches off his flashlight. I turn my flashlight off too, and we exchange smiles. He shifts a little, and his eyes drift towards the sleeping bags. I bite my lip, blushing. 

"Uh…" he says.

"Um…" I say.

We both laugh, and our fingers brush together as we each reach for the iced tea at the same time. His hand covers mine briefly, stroking across the back. "Wanna zip our bags together? We can sneak in the house and get some blankets or something." 

"I… um… okay," I whisper, daring to let my thumb graze over one of his fingers. Warmth instantly spreads across me, and I think my face might be approaching purple by this point. 

He laughs and shakes his head, giving me a fond look that makes me feel even more flustered. "C'mon, Col," he says, crawling out of the tent. "We've got a mission to go on." 

I follow after him, the night air cool against my skin after being stuck in that hot, sticky tent. "All right," he says, deepening his voice. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to retrieve the blankets from… uh, Col, where do you keep your blankets again?" 

I burst out laughing and give him a playful little nudge. Ryan is such a goof. "The hall closet?" I supply.

"The hall closet," he says, immediately all business again. "Without anyone seeing us." 

"We could just ask my mom for them, you know. She's probably still awake." 

"Shut up," he says. "That's no fun." 

And that's how, five minutes later, I find myself peeking into the living room. Mom's sitting next to Dad on the couch. She's sewing a button onto one of his work shirts, and he's watching tv. He has his arm around her, and she's smiling as she leans into him, and for a moment they're not my parents. They're just a couple of people who are obviously still in love even after all these years. 

My gaze lands on Ryan, waiting for me on the other side of the doorway, and I wonder if maybe… but it's a silly thought, far too grown-up, and I push it away.

Ryan gestures for me to get over there, and in a moment's decision I scurry past the door. I almost slip on the polished wooden floor, but Ryan catches me with his strong arms.

The rest of Ryan's "mission" goes off without a hitch. We reach the hall closet, grab a couple blankets, and hightail it back outside before my parents catch us. "All right!" Ryan exclaims as he dives into the tent. "That was great, Col! Victory!" And he does a shimmying little dance, riveting me in place for a moment. 

He leads me through the tent, the two of us leaping around like fools, and he almost steps on the bag of chips before I kick it out of the way with my foot. And then he bends down, brows drawn in concentration, tongue poking out as he unzips our sleeping bags and then puts them together. I admire his long, slender fingers, and the gentle way he handles the fabric reminds me of how he touches me, sometimes… 

And then he pulls me down next to him, and I spread the blankets over both of us. We each stay on our own sleeping bag at first, keeping our distance, blinking at each other. "It's… kinda cold," he says after a minute. "You cold?"

I stare at him, because it's the middle of the summer and of course it's not cold. "No," I start to say, and then it hits me. He wants… he wants us to… "Oh," I whisper, while he grins at me, showing off that adorable little gap between his front teeth, making my heart skip in my chest. "I guess I am a little cold, now that you mention it." 

"C'mere," he says roughly, holding out his arms. "I'll keep you warm."

 _You already do, Ryan_ , I want to say to him, but I don't think I have to. I think he knows, from the soft way he's looking at me. When Ryan lets his guard down like this, it always leaves me a little breathless. Because I have a feeling that he doesn't let anyone else see him the way he lets me see him. And I wish I knew what he's afraid of. 

And I fold myself into his arms, and it's warm, almost hot, like his skin is burning me, but I don't pull away. I snuggle deeper, his chest turning into my pillow. I can smell him, like soil in a summer garden, cool and dark and earthy. He makes me feel safe, and sleepy, like I can finally relax now that I'm surrounded by him. 

We both sigh, and he pushes my hair out of his eyes, because I'm ducking my head again to hide my flaming cheeks. "Col?" 

"Hmm?"

"You still have that book? The one you were reading?"

"Yeah," I say, reaching over him to grab _The Outsiders_. "It's right here. Why?" 

He bites his lip, giving me an almost shy look. Sometimes I forget that Ryan's just as shy as me, in his own way. He doesn't usually blush or stammer the way I do, he just kind of hides who he really is. He acts like an asshole when we're at school, always goofing off or talking back to the teachers, and a lot of kids are scared of him 'cause he's so big. Everybody wonders why we're even friends in the first place, since I barely talk when he's not around. 

We're friends because when Ryan looks at me, takes a deep breath, and says, "I… Col? Would you… read it to me?" I know that he's trying to be better, for me. 

We're friends because I immediately answer, "Sure, I'll read it to you." And I hope he knows that I'm trying too. 

His arms tighten around me, and I crack open the book to the first page. "'When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind…'" 

We take turns reading from the book, until our voices start to fade. I stop after Chapter Four, and he smiles at me. "That's not bad," he says thoughtfully. And from Ryan, that's actually a compliment. 

We drifted apart a little while we were reading, because we both had to hold the book, and I wiggle closer to him now that we're done. I actually am a little cold, since the sun's been down a couple hours, and he indulges me, wrapping me up in his arms again, pulling the blankets closer. I throw my arms around his neck, and he freezes, a gasp escaping from his parted lips. 

"Tired?" he asks me.

I nod, and he reaches up to turn off the lantern, leaving us in the dark. My eyes slowly adjust, and I realize he's staring at me, and his hands stroke my back as he presses closer to me. He's waiting.

In the dark, he can't see me blush, but I'm sure he knows, from the little squeaks that I can't seem to stop making. He sighs. "Goodnight, Col."

I gulp, and spread my fingers through the soft hair on the back of his neck. My heart's pounding like it wants to run away from my body, but I lean in, giving him what he wants. I press my lips against his, a little goodnight kiss, and he immediately responds, moving soft against me, making me tingle all over like I'm catching fire. My hands wander through his hair, and he's pushing into me, and all I can think is how _good_ it makes me feel when we kiss like this. 

"Goodnight, Ry," I whisper as I pull away, and my voice is even scratchier than it was while I was reading that last part of Chapter Four. 

I rest my head against his chest, and I feel his lips brush my forehead while I close my eyes. I've never felt less like sleeping.


	5. Innocent Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan drags a reluctant Colin to their first boy-girl party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the fifth story in The Innocent Series. Colin is fourteen, and Ryan is thirteen in this, and it's set during August of 1972. Oh, and it's a Ryan POV and the rating is PG-13 this time.

A smirk spreads across my face the minute he walks down the stairs. The pounding music becomes as soft as the lullaby my mom used to sing to me when I was small, and all the other laughing, talking kids fade away in the background when my eyes meet his. He lights up, and my smirk changes into a smile as he crosses the room. His brown eyes shine with warmth, and his hair is neatly combed back from his face for once in his life, but as he comes closer I can see little wisps struggling to break free. 

I can't decide if I like him better like this, or if I'd rather have his hair in his eyes. His forehead looks naked without all that dark hair spilling over it, and for a moment I'm tempted to reach out one hand and push it back where it belongs. 

"Hey, Ry," he says, laying a hand on my shoulder and grinning up at me.

"Hey, Col. You finally made it," I tease him, making a big show out of checking my watch.

He sticks his tongue out at me and flips me off at the same time, while I pretend to stagger backwards in shock. 

Andrea Sokel from up the street is turning fourteen today, and we were both invited to her party. It's an unsupervised boy-girl party in her parents' basement, which I guess is supposed to be a big deal or something, at least to the girls in the neighborhood. They've been whispering about it for the last couple weeks, making up all these dumb plans to bat their eyelashes at all us boys and... I don't know, I guess make us their boyfriends or something. 

Maybe it's weird but I'm more excited about my best friend than a bunch of hyper, giggly girls. I can't take my eyes off him tonight. He's just so cute, all brown floppy hair and big brown eyes. 

Okay, maybe he's always been cute. I can't even remember when I started thinking that—probably sometime last year, over the summer maybe. All I know is he makes me feel like these dreams I sometimes have, where I'm falling down an elevator shaft. Only instead of being scared I'm going to hit the floor, I just want to keep tumbling through the air. 

I lead him off to a corner, because I know he hates parties. His hands are stiff at his sides, and he's shuffling his feet, eyes trained on the floor while his smile tightens into a grimace. 

"Relax," I say, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

He jumps, glancing up at me with round eyes, and I can see how pale his face is. "There's so many," he whispers, immediately ducking his head again. 

Colin's really shy around people he doesn't know, and it's even worse when he's in a big group like this. And I feel terrible, because I was the one who encouraged him to come tonight. 

"Col," I say, glancing around to make sure no one's looking while I brush a couple stray hairs behind his ear. A few more pieces of hair fall into his eyes, and I have to bite back a laugh because I know Colin won't appreciate it. "You know everyone here. It's just kids from the neighborhood, that's all."

"I know, but they're… they're all… _together_ , and it's so loud, and… maybe I should just go home." 

I can barely hear him over the thumps of rock and roll and the combined laughter of twenty or so kids, and I want to drag him out in the middle of it all. But he needs me, so I stay. 

"No, don't," I beg him. "Not without even trying." 

And maybe I'm being a little selfish but I don't want to stay at the party all alone. And without him, I would be alone. It's not that the other kids hate me or anything, but, like Colin, I don't feel comfortable with them. 

I guess we just don't fit in. 

He must sense my desperation, because he nods. "Okay," he says, straightening up and giving me a shaky smile. "I'll try."

I grin at him and start bopping my head to _Sgt. Pepper_. Andrea has every single Beatles album, the lucky stiff. Her parents buy her whatever she wants, 'cause she's an only child. 

Sometimes I wish I could be an only child. Or at least, not have so many brothers. I can barely handle Robert, and then there's Richard, Roger, and Raymond, although Raymond joined the Air Force last month. He's down in the southern U.S. somewhere right now, training to be all you can be. Oh, maybe that's the Army. I don't know, and I don't care. 

You'd think this means I'd have my own room at last, but nope. I'm still stuck sharing with Robert, while Richard and Roger each get their own rooms 'cause they're older. At least this will be Roger's last year of high school, and he's looking into the Air Force too, so maybe next year…

I leave our little corner, because Colin's licking his lips like he's thirsty, and I have to admit that I could use a drink too. I dance my way through the middle of the party, swinging my hips, and everyone parts around me to let me through. It sort of hurts me the way they seem almost scared of me, but I can't let that show, not in front of them. Colin's the only one who's allowed to know about that. 

So I smirk, and I pull a few of the girls' ponytails, and I even snap Susan Leland's bra strap until she smacks me hard across the arm. And then I shovel potato chips into my mouth, grossing everyone around me out when I start talking with my mouth full, spraying chips everywhere, but they're all laughing too. 

I like to make people laugh. 

I crane my neck over the group, making sure Colin's okay. He's watching me, a mournful expression on his face, and I shake my head. He still hasn't moved an inch. I grab a couple of Cokes and walk back over to him. 

As soon as I hand over one of the Cokes he pries off the cap and downs about half of it. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and I have the urge to pull him off into the other room, the one with the beanbag chairs and the cigarette smoke drifting out where the older kids are making out. But I can't, and I know it. 

"You all right?" I ask him. I brush one hand down his arm, needing to touch him to make sure. 

He nods, and finishes off the rest of his Coke. "You have… um…" And he blushes as he reaches out and swipes his fingers across my chin. He shows me a couple of potato chip crumbs, while I shrug, a little ashamed. 

"You saw that, huh?"

"Yeah," he says, shoving me. "You're such an asshole, you know that?" 

"But you like me anyway," I tease him, and he stares at the floor again, his hair falling back into his eyes where it belongs. 

I have to laugh, because he's just so _young_ sometimes. He's surprisingly innocent for a guy who's turning fifteen this year. 

But I like that about him. 

I open my mouth to maybe make another smartass comment, but I'm drowned out by Andrea shouting in the middle of the room for quiet. I see an empty Coke bottle in her hand and my stomach clenches. She switches on the lamp next to the couch, and then turns off the overhead light, considerably dimming the room. 

"Time for Spin the Bottle!" she says, and all the girls squeal while the boys start inching away. 

Colin's face is shadowed but I hear his gulp. He clutches onto one of my arms, trying to hide behind me. 

"And don't think I don't see you back there, Ryan! You too, Colin!" Andrea exclaims, giggling while I swear at her under my breath. 

She pulls us both into the forming circle and shoves us down. And when she plops Susan in between us, I glare at her. "We're sitting boy-girl," she says, while Susan waves at me.

I try to look around her to make sure Colin hasn't fainted or something. 

So we play the stupid game, and I'm bored out of my skull. I don't want to kiss one of the neighborhood girls. Every time the bottle spins, I pray it won't land on me. Or on Colin for that matter. I don't want him kissing anyone either. 

Mary Reynolds has the bottle now. She stares at it for a moment, turning it over in her hands, while everyone catcalls her. She's only going into seventh grade next fall, and you can tell from the blush staining her cheeks that she's not sure she's going to make it to her first day at Killarney Secondary.

She sets down the bottle, grins around at everyone, and spins. I watch the bottle whirl around on the concrete floor. With every turn it slows, and I breathe each time it passes me by. 

The bottle lands on Colin, and my heart feels like it's being squeezed. A hush falls over the group as both of them stand up and move towards the middle of the circle. Her head barely reaches his shoulders, and he has to hunch over a little. 

I try to tell myself that it's no big deal. That he'll just peck her and be done with it. But when she raises herself up on her tiptoes, cupping one hand around the back of his neck, my fists clench. That's _my_ brown hair she's touching with the tips of her fingers. My hair that belongs to my Colin. 

He's blushing, and she's giggling, and are those dimples I see in his cheeks? I instantly feel betrayed as he smiles down at her, puts his hands on her hips to pull her forward, and brushes his lips against hers. 

It's over quickly, but he's pressing his lips together like he actually liked it, and she's staring up at him like he's her hero or something gagworthy like that. He tries to catch my eye but I just glower down at the floor, trying to burn a hole in it with just my eyes. Like I'm Superman with his X-Ray vision. 

Footsteps pound down the stairs, and suddenly we're faced with Andrea's dad. Mr. Sokel isn't too pleased that his daughter's playing Spin the Bottle down in the basement to say the least, and he makes her turn the light back on and even takes away the bottle before going back upstairs. Not that it's going to do any good, when we've got an entire cooler full of Coke bottles not ten feet away, but you know how grownups are. They just don't think about these kinds of things. 

I realize I have to pee pretty bad, and besides, I don't want to get pulled back into Spin the Bottle again if they decide they want to risk playing some more. Like I said, Andrea's kinda spoiled, and they actually have a finished bathroom down here in the basement and everything. 

When I come out of the bathroom, I look around for Colin. He isn't in the corner anymore. Instead I find him sitting on one of the couches chatting away with Mary. 

My eyes narrow when I see her laugh and lean her head on his shoulder. A red kind of haze fills my vision as I stomp over to them and yank him up off the couch. I don't even care that everybody can see me dragging him along like I'm a caveman.

He squeaks as I pull him upstairs, through the kitchen, and outside. I get a perverse thrill out of slamming the door behind me as loud as I want. "Ryan! What—" he starts to ask, rubbing his arm. 

I'm not done with him yet. I shove him up against a tree and kiss him, harder than I've ever kissed him before, maybe hard enough to leave bruises. He yelps and wiggles under me, but I don't even care right now. I want to erase every little bit of that kiss from Mary out of both of our minds. I want him breathless and filled with thoughts of me and me alone. 

He manages to push back against me enough so that his head's not banging into the tree anymore, and his lips move softer against mine, countering my fierce kisses. And he's wet and warm, and his hands curl into my hair, petting me, his fingers moving in soothing circles. 

I break away, alarmed at the tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. "I…" _I hurt you_ , I want to say. _I hurt you and I'm sorry for being such a fuckup like I always am._

"Shh," he says, pressing his forehead against mine. His fingers comb through the hair on the nape of my neck, and I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. "It's okay. I know why you did it."

"She likes you."

"But that's okay, 'cause like you said, I like _you_ , Ry." 

I grin at that, but then I remember Mary hanging off him and frown. "But you and her, you were—"

"She cornered me on the couch and started… I don't know, doing that girly flirty thing, and…" He blushes, his voice catching as he says, "Ry…" 

He looks up at me and gives me a sweet kiss that leaves no doubt how he feels about me. And this time, I touch him with all the gentleness he deserves. 

The minute he pulls away I bring my lips down to his neck, teasing his skin with my teeth, soothing the bites with my tongue, and he throws his head back. His hands bunch along the back of my shirt, and I can hear whimpers escaping from between his parted lips. 

The hickey on his neck marks him as mine for the rest of the evening.


	6. Innocent Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colin is at home sick in bed, and he gets to thinking about a summer adventure with Ryan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the sixth story in The Innocent Series. This one is rated R for references to male masturbation, and more specifically underage male masturbation. Due to the young ages of the characters, I tried not to get too detailed, but if this is squicky for you, please do not read. ;) Colin is fourteen, and Ryan is thirteen in this, and it's set during September of 1972. It's another Colin POV.
> 
> This is the last of the original stories from The Innocent Series. From here on out, it's all-new material. :)

I push away the tray that my mom brought in for me, the bowl of soup only half eaten. I am so sick of chicken noodle that I never want to see it again. Even the stack of comics next to my bed can't keep me interested, 'cause I've been sick in bed for three days now. I can't leave my room, Mom won't let Ryan come see me, and I am bored out of my mind. I wanted to go back to school today, because I really am feeling better, but she made me stay home an extra day to recover, "just in case".  
  
I know she cares about me and that's cool and everything, but I want out of this room so bad I'm considering going out the window. I think I would, if it wasn't on the second floor. I can't fly like Superman can, after all.   
  
I smile as I consider that, my eyes drifting shut. I can almost smell the barn, hay mixed with manure and dirt…  
  
  
  
  
_"I'm gonna fly!" Ryan calls from the loft, the rope swing held in his hand. We're both visiting his grandparents for two weeks on their farm, and this time, none of Ryan's brothers were invited. "Are you watching, Col?"_  
  
I _tilt my head up, wiping the sweat off my forehead as I lean against a couple bales of hay. "Do I have a choice?"_  
  
_He laughs, throwing his head back. His face is lit up with what looks like hundreds of sunbeams, and he takes my breath away. "Nope. Especially not when I got this rope right here…" And he smirks down at me, miming tying knots._  
  
_"You'd have to climb all the way down first," I say. "And by then, I'll be long gone."_  
  
_"Who said anything about climbing?" he says as he sits on the thick knot at the bottom of the rope._  
  
_And he jumps off the loft, sailing down into the barn, and yes, he flies. He flies, and he's beautiful, sunlight and shadow flitting across his face as he sails, summer tanned legs wrapped around the rope. He leaps from the rope into the hay pile, and comes up laughing._  
  
_"You gotta try this!" he exclaims, grinning at me. There are pieces of hay stuck in his hair as he hands me the rope, and I can only stare at him in awe, because he doesn't know just how golden he is right now, and I don't think I have the words to tell him..._  
  
  
  
  
I stare out the window, wanting to be out in the sun. It's another gorgeous September day, and I can't even enjoy it. Not that I could have anyway, since it's only around noontime. If I wasn't sick, I'd be in school right now. Although I guess it would be lunch, so I could've gone out for a little while, at least.   
  
Poor Ryan. I hope he's all right at school without me. I wonder who he's sitting with at lunch. Usually we eat together, just the two of us. He's in eighth grade this year, and I'm in ninth, so we don't share any of the same classes. Lunch is the only time I get to see him during the day, unless we happen to run into each other in the halls, and even though the other kids would never believe it, that makes lunch my favorite subject.   
  
I miss him. I can't stop thinking about him. Maybe it's just 'cause I don't have much else to think about right now, but I don't think so. It's been like this for the past year, ever since he kissed me that first time, and maybe even a little before that too.   
  
I close my eyes again, letting out long, deep breaths, trying to soothe the Ryan-ache building inside of me. I roll over on my side, away from the window, and I feel a little better after that. And as I slide into sleep I imagine arms, circling me…  
  
  
  
  
_I wake up to Ryan, humming a few bars of "Ben", the title song from this campy movie playing down at the movie theater in town. It's about the unlikely friendship between a killer rat and a boy, and maybe it's crazy but it reminds me of my friendship with Ryan. It came out earlier this year, but the theater out here is always behind on their movies according to Ryan. And anyway, neither of us had ever seen it, so we went. So far, we've watched it three times, and Ryan's grandparents think we're nuts. The last time, Ryan even paid for my ticket and my popcorn, and when we walked home he held my hand and serenaded me with the song. Ryan has an excellent memory, and he knew almost the whole thing by heart._  
  
_I smile and hum along, because I'm already starting to think of it as our song, and he nudges me. "You're awake," he whispers into my hair, squeezing me._  
  
_I raise my head, letting my fingers trail down the front of his shirt, feeling his chest muscles underneath the fabric, and he smiles. "'Course I'm awake. You woke me up," I say, but I'm not mad and he knows it._  
  
_After what felt like a hundred rounds of swinging from the loft, both of us collapsed in the hay, and I guess we fell asleep, because here I am, in his arms. The barn has darkened considerably since then, and I'm guessing it must be close to dinnertime._  
  
_My stomach growls just thinking of Grandma Stiles' home cooking, and Ryan shoves me. "Hungry?" he asks with a smirk._  
  
_"Maybe a little."_  
  
_"You ate like an elephant last night."_  
  
_"And you ate like a sperm whale."_  
  
_We snicker over that for what feels like forever, and then he says, "Wanna take a walk with me?"_  
  
_And I prop my head up on one of my elbows, giving him a good, long look. "You have hay in your hair," I say, reaching to take it out of his soft honey-colored curls. Ryan's hair fascinates me._  
  
_He laughs and stands up, before offering his hand to help me up. "So what? It'll come out eventually."_  
  
_I take his hand, and once I'm up I tug him towards me. "C'mere."_  
  
_"Col!" he exclaims, biting his lip as I stand on tiptoes and begin picking out each little piece of hay. And oh my God, is that a blush staining his cheeks? Did I actually make big, tough Ryan Stiles lose his cool?_  
  
_I think I did, and I wonder what I should do about it. "Turn around," I say, as I brush my hands along his shoulders._  
  
_He grunts, but eventually he does what I ask. I start with his shoulders, then trail down his back. He stiffens when my fingers skate lower, and I laugh into his hair._  
  
_When I slap him on the butt, he whips around. "Hey!" he exclaims, and I grin._  
  
_And he chases me through the fields and into the woods…_  
  
  
  
  
When I wake up, I feel warm all over, but not because I'm sick. It's more like the feeling I get when I look at Ryan, or when I touch him, or especially when I kiss him. A hot throbbing, concentrated... you know, down there.  
  
It's worse than it's ever been, and I sigh, rubbing my hips against the mattress. Sometimes that helps a little. Taking deep breaths usually works too.   
  
This time, nothing works. And all I can think about is that day in the woods, with Ryan. When he finally caught me, he tossed me backwards into a big patch of leaves. I remember how we rolled around with each other, and how my clothes got all wet and stained. And he pinned me squarely, holding my arms as I squirmed underneath him and we both laughed.   
  
I glance at the door, biting my lip, and reach into my pajama bottoms. My penis is stiff, and when my hand closes over it, I gasp, because I'm remembering something warm and hard, pressing against my thigh, and the heat that coursed through me as I pushed back up into him and we kissed.   
  
It all clicks into place, as I realize that was what I was feeling when we were kissing. Ryan was  _hard_ , just like I'm hard now, and does that mean that he gets excited by me too? My face burns, and I touch myself. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but whatever it is, it feels great, and I don't want to stop.   
  
And I close my eyes, squeezing tighter, and oh… _oh._  Right there when I rub my thumb over the head, that's good, so I keep doing it. It's exactly like that Ryan-ache, only a million times stronger. And all I can think of is Ryan, hard against me, and I imagine him kissing me over and over and over until I think I might be burning a hole through the sheets… 

  
  
  
  
_Ryan moans into my mouth, and I touch his butt, not 'cause I want to slap him but 'cause I want him closer. I don't even know what I'm doing, but he jumps off me, eyes wide._  
  
_"Sorry," he mutters, and he runs away._  
  
_And I roll over, pressing my face into the cool leaves until the heat dies down…_  
  
  
  
  
I fall back onto the pillow, my chest heaving like I just ran the hundred meter dash in gym class. My hand's all wet and sticky, but I don't care, because that was incredible. I never… I never thought…  
  
And for a while, I don't think. I just breathe, a goofy grin on my face, as I float down from whatever this high is that I've discovered.   
  
I need to do that again, I decide as I wipe my hand on a tissue.   
  
"Col?"   
  
My face flushes, and I open my eyes to find Ryan, hovering in the doorway. I yank my covers up, even though there's no way he could know what I've been doing. "Ry!" I exclaim, swallowing hard, because how can I look at him, after what just happened, what I was just thinking about? "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Your mom said it was all right for me to see you today," he says. "Can I come in?"  
  
"Oh! Yeah," I say after staring at him for a moment. He just looks so good all of a sudden. "Come on in."   
  
He closes the door behind him and crosses towards me. I notice he still has his backpack slung across his shoulders. He must've come here right after school let out, and that makes me way happier than I should probably admit. "How you doing, Col? Your mom said you could come back to school tomorrow. I really missed you," he says, perching on the edge of my bed.   
  
"I… um… I missed you too," I whisper, giving him a hug. His arms are familiar, his lips graze my cheek, and we both sigh before he pulls away.   
  
"Yeah?" He grins at me, and my heart tightens in my chest. "The teachers missed you too. Said they'd go on strike if you didn't come back soon."  
  
I toss my pillow at him, and he laughs. "Asshole."  
  
"Bastard," he says, whacking me on the shoulder. "Should've just made you get your own damn homework assignments."  
  
My eyes light up. "You brought me homework?"   
  
He rolls his eyes, and reaches into his backpack, grumbling to himself about how he hasn't seen me for three days, and here I am, getting all excited about homework. And I mutter something about how I've been stuck in this stupid room for three days, and I need all the excitement I can get, so he can just stick it where the sun don't shine.   
  
We both bend over my books, his shoulder brushing mine, and I hope that I'll never have to go so long without seeing him again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Col might be a little old for this to be his first time… well… y'know. *grin* But I've been trying to show in previous stories how young-seeming he is for his age, so I thought it fit… I see Colin as kind of a late bloomer anyway.


	7. Innocent Dances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Colin go on their first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shiny-new part of the Innocent Series, OMG! This is set in October of 1972, when Ryan is 13 and Colin is almost 15, and it's a Ryan POV. 
> 
> Since I'm now into the new parts of the series, updates may not be quite as regular. But worry not, I will get everything completed. i have notes for each part and I know exactly what I'm doing... it's just a matter of actually getting it written. ;)
> 
> Oh, and if you're not familiar with "Unchained Melody" by The Righteous Brothers, you can find it on YouTube. Please have a listen, because it's a part of one of the most important moments in the series.

As soon as I walk into school I'm bombarded by posters advertising the upcoming school dance on Friday night. I stop to study one of the hand-painted posters, scuffing my shoes along the faded linoleum as I consider it. I never really cared too much about school dances before, because they always seemed pretty dumb to me. But maybe that was because I never had anyone I actually wanted to go with... 

My eyes dart around, hunting for Colin. He's usually waiting for me by the library, and sure enough, I can see a glimpse of his brown hair through the crowd. My heart lifts at the sight of him, and I square my shoulders, intending to go over and ask him if he wants to go to the dance with me. But then it hits me that I can't. Well, I mean, I _can_ , but we'd have to pretend like we were only going as friends, and we wouldn't be able to dance together or anything like that, not without getting our asses kicked. The other kids would call us gay, or worse, and we'd probably never live it down. All because guys are supposed to dance with girls, not with other guys. But who says so? 

It isn't fair. I really like Colin, like _a lot_. He's the best friend I've ever had, and he's also an amazing kisser. He's loads better than some stupid girl. I seriously can't think of a single girl that I would want to dance with more than I want to dance with him. 

When I walk up to Colin, he's struggling with his book bag again. One of the straps is always coming loose, but he doesn't want to tell his mom he needs a new bag. He doesn't want to bother her about it, even though he's had the same book bag for almost as long as I've known him, and he could obviously use a new one. But that's just Colin for you. His brown hair is flopping into his eyes like usual as he fiddles with the strap, trying to buckle it back into place while juggling his lunch. 

I grab his lunch from him just before it topples to the floor, and he shoots me a grateful look. "Thanks, Ry," he whispers through the fringe of his bangs. He's always quieter when we're at school, but it somehow makes him all the cuter to me. 

I shake my head and smirk at him, pulling him into the library and away from all of the noise and chatter of the other kids. Hardly anyone ever comes into the library, especially this early in the day, so we're almost totally alone. I guide him into one of the stacks, the one filled with the dustiest, boringest books in the whole library. I want to make sure no one overhears us.

I clear my throat, feeling that now familiar Colin-flutter rising in my stomach. "Uh, Col?" I say, twisting my hands as I gaze into his warm brown eyes.

"Yeah?" he replies, hoisting his book bag a little higher on his shoulder. I can see that the strap is already starting to loosen again. 

There's another dance poster hanging on the wall behind him, taunting me. "Do you... do you maybe want to go the movies on Friday?" And even though I've been to a million Friday movies with him, this time I'm hoping it'll be different. 

He shoots me a strange look, probably 'cause my voice came out all high and funny, and I want to sink into the ground. "Okay," he says, shrugging like it's no big deal. "I'll meet you in our usual place?"

"No!" I yell, much louder than I meant to. I glance around, hoping Miss Simpson the librarian won't show up. When I'm sure she isn't on the prowl, I continue, "I mean, uh..." I stare helplessly at the dance poster, struggling for the words I need. 

I run a hand through my hair. I can feel his eyes on me, never leaving my face, and it makes me even more flustered. So I take a deep breath and decide to try again. "I mean," I say, straightening myself up as best as I can. "I want to pick you up this time."

"Oh," he breathes, his brow wrinkling. "But why?" 

I almost want to laugh, he's so clueless sometimes. "Because, Col," I say, trying to be patient with him. "'Cause I want to go out with you, okay?" My eyes flit over to him, hoping he'll get it now that I practically spelled it out for him. 

He gulps and looks back at me, and I can see the blush starting to rise in his cheeks. "Like, on a _date_?" 

"Yeah," I say, grinning at him. I take one of his hands in mine. "You want to?"

All he can do is nod, that shy little smile peeking out at me. He squeezes my hand and I swear I feel like I'm six feet tall. "Okay," he finally says. "I'll go out with you."

"I'm sorry we can't go to the dance," I say, because I want him to know that I do _want_ to...

"Yeah," he says, looking at the ground. "I guess people wouldn't understand, huh?" 

"Nah," I sigh. "Probably not." 

And as I look at his downcast face I can't help but wish there was some way to change the world.

***

On Friday night I knock on Colin's front door. My face is clean, I'm wearing my best button-down shirt, and my pants don't have a single hole in them. I know, because I triple checked. And oh yeah, I'm also shaking worse than the time I had to climb up the rope in gym class in front of everybody. But that's beside the point.

Colin's mom opens the door. "Oh, hello, Ryan," she says in her slight Scottish accent. She gives me one of those grown-up smiles, you know, where you can tell they're thinking how adorable you are or some crap like that. "Are you here for Colin?"

"Yeah," I say, feeling almost shy. I'm not used to grownups paying so much attention to me. 

"Well, don't you look nice," she says, and I swear she's about to start cooing over me. I feel like I want to barf. 

"Yeah, we're going to a dance at school," I tell her. 

I don't exactly like lying about where we're going, but it's not like we can really explain it to our parents. I know my dad would skin me alive if he knew I was going out with Colin. And Colin's pretty sure his dad would do the same to him. So we both decided to tell our parents we were going to the dance, that way they wouldn't question why we were so dressed up. But really, we'd be going to the movies together like we planned. 

"Yes, Colin mentioned something about that," she says, giving me a thoughtful look. 

She looks like she wants to say something else, but right then, Colin starts to come downstairs, and he is incredible. I know I shouldn't stare at him with his mom standing right there and everything, but I have to admit my breath catches in my throat as he descends. He's wearing this light blue sweater, with khaki pants, and he's just... _wow_. And he didn't slick his hair back this time, either, 'cause I told him I like it better when it's falling in his eyes. 

"Hey, Col," I say as he crosses the living room. I'm trying hard not to sound too awed, but I can't help it. 

He gives me his sweetest smile, complete with the dimples, and replies, "Hey, Ry." His voice is soft and his eyes move up and down my body, checking me out. Judging by the way he's biting his bottom lip I think he likes what he sees. So I stand up straighter, really trying to impress him. 

Then his mom wants to take a couple pictures of us. Her eyes are all misty, almost like she wants to cry, but she's smiling at the same time. I don't know what's up with that, but I chalk it up to the fact that parents are weird no matter what. 

Before we can go, she asks me what time I'll have Colin home. That's a little weird too, but whatever. I tell her we'll probably be back around 10, and she smiles and waves at us as she closes the door after us, telling us to have a good time. Oh, and as she's shutting the door I totally tell her about how Colin needs a new book bag, which makes Colin smack me. But it's worth it, because come on. 

As we walk down the driveway I sigh with relief. "I can't believe we got away with it," I say, pretending to wipe sweat from my brow. 

"Me neither," say Colin, and I want to hold his hand so bad but I know I can't... 

"You look great," I tell him. "That sweater..." I hardly ever blush, but I think I might this time. 

"So do you," he says, poking at my shirt teasingly. "I don't recognize you when you're so clean."

"Shut up," I say, giving him a playful shove. 

He grins at me and sticks out his tongue. I cross my eyes and give him the finger. We spend a few minutes poking and shoving at each other before I dig into my pocket, pulling out a couple of Mars bars, his favorite candy bar. 

"I didn't think you'd go for flowers," I say, holding out the candy.

He laughs and wraps one arm around my shoulder for a few seconds, leaning into me. "Thanks, Ry," he says, accepting the candy. "Hey, I have something for you, too."

He pulls a round, flat shape wrapped in a napkin out of his pocket. I let out an involuntary gasp as soon as I get a whiff of the fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie. The cookies that Colin and his mom bake are absolutely _legendary_. "We made them after school today," says Colin, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.

I moan as I bite into the still soft cookie, because saving it for later isn't even an option as far as I'm concerned. "You're the best, Col," I say as I devour its chocolatey goodness in about ten seconds. 

"Mom has a tin of them for you at home," he says. "You can pick it up when we get back to my house."

"You made me a whole _tin_ of those?" I ask. I can't believe I've lucked into such riches. 

"It was my mom's idea," he says. "She really likes you, you know. She told me that today while we were making the cookies." 

I bite back a smile, secretly pleased to hear that. Sometimes I wish I was as close with my mom as Colin is with his. It's not easy when you have four older brothers.... it feels like I get ignored a lot by both of my parents, because someone else always needs something. Before Colin came along, I felt like no one would ever really get me. I didn't even think I was very important a lot of the time. But Colin, he really listens to me, and he helped me to see that I do matter. And even though I don't always see it, _he_ sees it. And that means more to me than even he knows. 

In a few more minutes we're at the movie theater. I pay for both of our tickets, and he says he'll buy our snacks. At the concession stand we decide on a large popcorn and a couple of sodas. The theater isn't super busy tonight, because most of the kids from school are at the dance. So we have almost the entire back row to ourselves. There's only a couple of people way on the other end of the row, and that's just fine with me.

In the dark theater I allow myself to hold hands with Colin like I've been wanting to ever since our date started. We watch a couple of Looney Tunes shorts before the main feature starts, and I can feel this electric current flowing between us every time he squeezes my hand. It's not quite as intense as when we kiss, but it still feels pretty good. He leans his head against my shoulder again, but this time we don't have to worry about anyone seeing us, so he stays there for a long time. His hair is soft against the side of my neck, and I can smell the familiar scent of his strawberry shampoo. 

Once the movie starts we dig into the popcorn, sharing it between us. My hand lies in wait in the popcorn bucket, and every time he reaches inside I capture his fingers in mine, sending popcorn flying everywhere. He swats at me, I flick pieces of popcorn at him, and he laughs, batting them away. Sometimes his hand covers mine, sometimes my fingers skate across his knee, and sometimes he leans his head on my shoulder again. And that electric current between us is just a-humming right along. We're barely watching the movie, but I don't even care. It's so nice to finally be able to touch him like this, as much as I want, without having to worry that someone will see us, and make fun of us, or beat us up, or whatever it is they do to guys like us. 

I still wish we could've danced though.

***

On the way home I convince him to take the long way, so we can walk past the school. I know it's probably a bad idea, but I can't help myself. When we reach the school I can see the other kids dancing through the open gym doors, and I can hear the music drifting out into the street. All I can do is watch the dancing couples enviously, wishing that Colin and I could join them. I still don't think it's fair that we can't.

His hand slips into mine in the dark, and we stand there for several minutes, both of us far away from the warmth and light of the gym. I swallow, hard, and turn to look at him. I want him to know how sorry I am that we can't be in there with the rest of the kids, where we should be. But then he takes me over to the parking lot, and smiles up at me, silently asking me to dance. 

"We can still hear the music out here," he says. 

Just as I guide him into our first steps, "Unchained Melody" by The Righteous Brothers comes on. I gasp as he burrows against me, and the music overtakes us. We sway back and forth, and somehow I'm happy and sad all at once. He's in my arms, right there with me, just like I wanted. But as I listen to the song I have this nagging feeling that he won't always be. There will come a day when I'll hunger for his touch for a long, lonely time, just like the song says. 

I find myself whispering the lyrics against the shell of his ear. I don't even know why. It just feels like something I need to do. "Are you still mine?" I sing softly, and he raises his head to meet my eyes. 

"I need your love," I murmur in a broken voice, concentrating only on him as I let the beat of the music fill me. He's watching me with wide brown eyes, solemn in the dim light of the school parking lot. "I, I need your love. Godspeed your love... to _me_." I lean in as I whisper-sing the last part straight to him, my voice filled with an emotion I don't quite understand. All I know is, it's present in the music and somehow it's in me too. Our foreheads are nearly touching, and I see his eyes flutter closed. 

When I pull back, he smiles at me, but his smile is sad too. I wonder if he's feeling the same loss that I am. He lays his head against my shoulder for the rest of the song, and my arms tighten around him. I don't ever want to let him go. 

I hope that I'll never have to.

***

The walk back to Colin's house is pretty quiet. When we reach his garage, I have an idea. "We should probably, uh, say goodnight here," I say, pulling him against the garage. I don't want his parents to see us, you know, kissing or anything like that.

Colin shoots me an impish grin. "Okay, goodnight." He gives a little wave and makes like he's going to walk away.

I smirk at him, shaking my head in mock disbelief. "Grr," I growl, yanking him back. "Come back here, you."

We both laugh, and he pulls me into a casual hug. 

"I hate that we have to hide like this," he says from against my chest. 

"I know, I'm sorry," I say into his hair. I withdraw so I can look at him as I ask, "Did you have fun tonight?" 

"Mmm hmm," he says, ducking his head. It's so cute how he still gets shy around me sometimes. 

"Do you... maybe want to go out again? Next Friday?" 

He considers me for a moment, and I hold my breath until I see him smile. "Yeah, I'd like that," he finally decides. 

I tug him closer again. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Oh, probably..." He gives me a quick kiss. "... _that_." 

"Oh, really?" I say, tickling his ribs until he's curled up giggling. 

For the next few minutes, we tease and tickle each other, with kisses mixed in. I love it when we do that. I guess because it means we're still best friends underneath it all. 

"Goodnight, Ry," he says, looking up at me with shining eyes that make me feel as melty as a grilled cheese sandwich. 

"Goodnight, Col," I whisper, grinning down at him. He looks damn good with that sweater bunched up around his waist where I'd tickled him. 

"Don't forget your cookies," he reminds me as we step out from behind the garage. 

"Coooooooookies," I say in a zombie voice, lurching towards his house.

His answering laugh is the perfect end to our first date.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I'll give you some of Colin and his mom's cookies if you leave a review. :)


	8. Innocent Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colin finally realizes how he feels about Ryan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one skates into a heavier rating, but it's still at a PG-13 level, at least I think. There's no sex or anything, but it's a bit hotter/heavier than previous stories-- the boys are starting to grow up a bit more. ;) There's also a pretty big (8 month) time jump in the series-- sorry for that, but I wanted to age them up at least somewhat for these next few stories. So this is set in May of 1973, when Ryan is 14 and Colin is 15, and it's a Colin POV.

Ryan groans in frustration and shoots me a dark look. It's Thursday afternoon and we're in my room sprawled out on the floor, with an entire asteroid belt of books and papers scattered all around us. I'm helping him study for his finals, and believe me when tell you, studying with Ryan is never easy. 

"I can't do this," he mutters, slumping over. "Can't you just do it for me?" He gives me his best charming look and scoots beside me, laying his head against my shoulder in an attempt to butter me up.

I laugh and shove him away, not fooled in the least. "You know it doesn't work that way," I say, 

He shifts his Algebra book back into his lap, sulking at me. Algebra is pretty much his worst subject, and he knows he has to pass, or else his dad will kill him. And if his dad doesn't kill him, I will. 

"I hate this shit," he says. "When am I ever going to use it in real life?"

"Who knows?" I say, because even though I'm good at math, I still haven't figured out what the point of Algebra is either. "But you need to pass, Ry. Think about summer school."

"Summer school," Ryan moans into his book. "Don't remind me."

Ryan will do anything to avoid summer school, even putting himself through the voluntary torment of studying. Right now, he needs a little extra motivation. And I think I have just the thing... 

"And what about our plans this summer? If you're in summer school, we won't be able to hang out at the beach like you wanted." Ryan has been talking about taking me to the beach all winter long. I think he just wants an excuse to bury me in the sand and laugh at me. But maybe I'll get an ice cream or something out of it, so it won't be too bad. 

"I also won't have to work for my dad," he grumbles. Ryan's dad manages a fish factory, and he's been making threats to give Ryan a job this summer. "I hate fish."

"So, what do you hate more? Fish or summer school?" 

"I hate everything," Ryan replies with a grin, like that's a real answer. And to him, it probably is. 

I'm just about to smack him when I hear my mom calling for me. "Colin, where are you?" 

"I'm studying with Ryan in my room!" I yell, even though I know she hates it when I do that. But how else am I supposed to let her know where I am unless I yell? Sometimes parents make no sense. 

Mom steps inside of my room, staring down at our mess, and I'm impressed that she doesn't seem too fazed by it. But then again, I suppose she's used to our study sessions by now. "Hello, Ryan, dear," she says.

Ryan mumbles something vaguely affirmative in her direction without taking his nose out of his book. 

She exchanges amused looks with me before trying again. "Do you want to stay for dinner tonight, Ryan? We're having meatloaf."

That gets his attention. "Meatloaf?" he says in an eager voice, Algebra all but forgotten. I swear, Ryan would eat my mom's meatloaf every day if he could. He favors her with one of his rare real smiles, slow and bright and beautiful. "That would be great, Mrs. Mochrie." 

"We'll be glad to have you," she says, returning his smile while bending down to pat his knee. She turns to me and continues, "Now, Colin, I'm going out for an hour or so to run some errands. Can you start the breadcrumb mixture for me before I get back?" 

"Sure," I say, while Ryan and I exchange excited glances. My siblings are out goofing off with some of the neighborhood kids, and Dad's still at work, so it's just going to be us here all alone... I'm hoping that my mom won't notice the promises Ryan can't quite keep out of his eyes, and the way my breathing is speeding up.

"I'll let you know when I'm home," she says. Her lips twitch like she wants to smile, but she doesn't. And she gives me a hug, enveloping me in the flowery scent of her perfume. "Be good," she whispers to me with twinkling eyes before she straightens up and walks away, shutting the door behind her. 

We're good while we listen to my mom thumping around downstairs. We're good while we hear the door slam behind her. We're even good while the car starts, the garage door creaks open, and the car hums out of the driveway on its way to wherever it is my mom's going. And then, we're good for about five more minutes on top of that, both of us listening and waiting in case she forgets something and needs to come back. 

But after that? We're really not so good. 

Ryan gives me one rakish look and that's when I know for sure that we're not going to get anymore studying done for a while. "C'mere, Col," he says, shoving all of our schoolwork off to the side. 

"We shouldn't," I say, even though part of me really, _really_ wants to. 

"Shouldn't what?" he asks with wide eyes, but I'm not fooled, because innocence and Ryan have never entirely gone together. 

"You know," I whisper, and once again I curse my shyness for making me this way, every time, with him. I mean, we've been going out for almost the entire school year and he still does this to me. 

"I do?" He's toying with me, and I know he is, but I don't know what to do about it, so I just keep quiet. 

He laughs and slides across the rug towards me until our thighs are touching. Then he straddles my lap in one easy motion, giving me that gap-toothed grin that always lights me up inside. He leans down until our faces are inches apart and breathes, "Is this what you mean?"

The next thing I know he's tickling me and I'm wiggling every which way trying to get out from under him. But he's gotten stronger over the last year, and no matter what I try, I can't get him off of me. I'm laughing so hard that I can barely breathe, and having his weight pinning me down isn't helping matters any. 

"No, Ry, stop!" I exclaim, and I'm still laughing and he's still grinning and I still can't get my breath and it's just... too much... 

His lips capture mine, and for a moment I lose myself in that amazing Ryan-ache spreading all down my spine. He moans and moves closer, and that's when I figure out how I can get him back. So I open my mouth underneath him, twining my tongue with his, and oh, dear _God_ , he tastes as good to me as a Mars bar, and that Ryan-ache is strong, but I have to be stronger because this is pretty much my only chance... 

I run my fingers up and down his back while we continue to kiss, and as soon as he's panting into my mouth I reach down and tickle his armpits. He jumps back mid-kiss, I roll out from under him, and I know it's immature but I stick my tongue out at him to declare my victory. "Fuck, Col," he whispers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Pride fills my chest at the admiration in his voice. "Gotcha," I say with my best shit-eating grin. 

He smirks at me and says, "Not for long." And then he pounces on me again. 

We wrestle around on the rug for a while, tickling and teasing each other. And as we're rolling around together all of these feelings are rolling around inside of me. I don't know what it is about Ryan that makes me this way. It's not just that he's my best friend, although he probably is the best friend I'll ever have. It's everything about him: the laughter in his bright green eyes, the feel of his golden curls underneath my fingers, that wicked little smile he sometimes gets. It's his hidden shy side that only comes out when we're alone, because I'm the one he trusts most of all. It's how he always brings me little presents before we go out, like candy bars or comics. And it's the way he teases me, but never too much, so I'm always sure that he... that he _loves_ me... 

My face starts to heat up at the thought, but then I see the look in his eyes as he tickles my ribs and watches me laugh and I know it's true. So before I can think about it too much I blurt out, "I love you, Ryan." My voice only trembles a little at the end. 

He stills above me, his face unreadable, and this small, scared piece of me wants to take it back. But then he smiles, the special soft-eyed one he only uses with me, and one of his hands reaches out to smooth my hair off my forehead. "Wow... I love you too, Col," he murmurs, and his words spread a warmth across my entire body like nothing I've ever felt before. 

But then his smile starts to take on a mischievous glint as he leans into me and says, "And I am gonna kick your ass." 

And I yelp as he pins me underneath him for Round Three. But this time... this time we kiss a whole lot more, to the point where I can feel him growing against me, and I'm growing too, and he knows it because he's pressing into me, _right there_ against my thigh, and I'm pressing back, and the Ryan-ache has never felt so good... he's laughing, and I'm laughing, and we're kissing, but it's more like a kissing-tickling-wrestling fight, and I'm dizzy but I can't stop because it's _Ryan_ , and he loves me, and I love him, _so much_... 

Ryan pulls back, and it's almost like he's shimmering in front of me, like that water on the pavement mirage you sometimes see on a hot summer day. "Col," he pants in a dazed voice. "You're so... you're... you're _cute_ , Col." And he's blushing, and I feel like I'm flying like Superman, faster than a speeding bullet... 

Then we hear Mom calling, "I'm home, boys!" And her footsteps come thudding up the stairs.

We jump apart like we just touched burning metal, exchanging glances like, "Oh, shit!" We both grab our books and shove them into our laps, trying to hide our mutual excitement as best as we can. Ryan tears open his Algebra book, and I lean over him, pretending like I'm helping him with a math problem just as my mom finally comes into my room. 

I can feel his breath hitching in his throat, and my breathing is still all raggedy too, but if she notices, she doesn't say anything. "Hello, dear boys," she says. "Did you get a lot done?"

Ryan and I trade sheepish glances. "Um, yeah," I say, straightening my shirt while praying I'm not blushing too much.

"Oh yeah... I'm, uh, learning a whole lot," Ryan says in a strangled voice, and I see him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. 

"Well, I'll leave you to it, then," she says, and it almost looks like she's trying not to laugh. But I don't see what could possibly be so funny. 

As soon as she leaves, we both exhale. "So," he says, grinning at me. "Algebra?" 

"Algebra," I agree, settling against him. 

We work on some sample math problems for a few minutes, and then from downstairs I hear...

"Colin, where's that breadcrumb mixture?"

"Crap," I mutter, and beside me Ryan laughs so hard he's almost crushing into me, but I somehow don't mind.

Like I said, studying with Ryan is never easy. But I guess that's part of why I love him.


	9. Innocent Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan has too many secrets to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the ninth story in The Innocent Series. I'm really not sure how to rate this one... I'd probably push it more towards the R rating just to be on the safe side. Again, there's no sex, but there is some, err, petting between the (underage) boys... I tried to keep it as mild as possible, but if this bothers you, please do not read this. It's set in July of 1973, when Ryan is 14 and Colin is 15, and it's a Ryan POV.

My alarm starts ringing far too early for a Friday morning in July, but I know if I ignore it, my fifteen year old brother Robert will just come into my room and sit on my head until I get up... so I might as well save him the trouble. He and I are no longer sharing a room, because Roger left to join Raymond in the Air Force just last month. That means Robert got Roger's room and I'm still in our old room. I can't say I miss the smug little bastard at all. I still feel like I see him far too much, but hey, at least we're no longer forced to be roommates. 

Robert and I are both working at the fish plant with my dad this summer, and he always leaves the house super early, so that's why I'm sitting here in the gray light of dawn, glaring at my alarm clock. Richard, my other brother, managed to get an actual summer job this year ripping tickets at one of the local movie theaters, so he's the only one who doesn't have to get up at this ungodly hour. He's seventeen, and he'll be a senior this year. I envy him like nothing else... not only can he drive, but he also doesn't have to wake up early and deal with stinky fish all day. Well, I only work until lunch because of child labor laws, so I guess it isn't really all day. But it sure feels like it when I'm sweeping up fish guts for what feels like the hundredth time a day. 

The only good thing about these early mornings is breakfast. My mom wakes up when my dad does, and she cooks us enough food to where I think she could join the Air Force herself as a mess hall cook. There are piles of pancakes or sometimes even waffles, and they're always served with plenty of bacon and sausage and scrambled eggs. My mom makes the _best_ scrambled eggs, no lie. 

I make my way downstairs, because Robert's already in the bathroom we share, probably hogging all the hot water again. But I don't mind too much, because at least it means I get a little time to myself with my mom, and believe me when I say that's a rarity in this house. She's not as cool as Colin's mom... she has a tendency to nag me about pointless things, and she watches way too many soap operas. But I still love her, because she's my mom. 

"Good morning, Ryan," she says as I come downstairs. She's wearing this lime green housedress with an orange and yellow flowered apron tied around her waist. 

"Very Flower Power, Mom," I say, poking at the apron. Right away the scent of bacon mixed with maple syrup fills my nose and I sigh, because to me, this is home.

"I'm just a groovy gal," she agrees, twirling around for me. "That's what the kids say now, right? Groovy?"

"Sure," I say, biting back a laugh as I take my usual seat at the table. It's so bizarre when my mom tries to act cool. 

"See? Your old mom is still with it," she says as she sashays back to the pan of sausages frying on the stove. 

My dad comes in and kisses her cheek and starts dancing along with her in time to the sizzling of the bacon. I put my head down on the table like I can't even believe these are my parents. Then Robert sneaks up behind me and shakes his wet hair all over me, making me yelp and shove him away. How a troll like my brother can possibly be the same age as Colin, I'll never understand. 

"Shower's free, asshole," he says before taking a big bite out of a piece of toast. Behind us my mom admonishes him for language, and he opens his mouth, showing me chunks of chewed-up bread while my dad smacks him across the forearm. 

I just don't know about my family sometimes. 

After feeding time at the zoo is over, Robert and I squish into the cab of my dad's battered old pick-up. I have to sit in the middle, which I hate. I've grown another four inches over the past few months, so I'm now pushing 5'9". My arms and legs feel like origami squares, folded over and over to fit into what little space I have. My mom's worried I'm going to wind up taller than Raymond, who's 6'3". But I wouldn't mind being the tallest in my family-- maybe they would all leave me the hell alone every once in a while if I were the biggest one.

When we arrive at the fish plant, Dad lets Robert head off to the packing room. This year he's allowed to help pack up the coolers of fresh fish that are shipped all over British Columbia. And lucky me, I got his old job-- being Dad's whipping boy. Okay, maybe it's not that bad. But it's pretty much just me doing whatever the hell Dad tells me to do for the four hours I'm there, three days a week. It's a lot of assembling boxes, adding up the time cards, filling ice, answering the phones, and oh yeah, sweeping up fish guts, which I think I mentioned already. Now that is _nasty_ work. But it's still better than actually having to touch them day in and day out, like some of the guys do. I hope my dad is paying them a lot of money, that's all I have to say.

Right now my dad and I are walking through the main floor of the plant. He's trying to give me my current orders, but all of these people keep swarming him like he's David Cassidy. Everyone has a million questions for him, tasks they want him to do, invoices they want him to sign, or other things that I don't even really understand. I have no idea how he does this every day. If it was me, I'd have fired them all by now, but my dad... well, he doesn't look happy exactly judging from the way his nostrils are flaring, but at least he isn't yelling at anyone. Yet. 

We finally make it to his office and he shuts the door behind us. It's quiet in here but still not very calm, because the desk is always overflowing with papers, and the phone is usually ringing off the hook. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs, looking at me. "This is why I want you boys to go into the Air Force," he says, and it's such a familiar speech that I can recite it word for word. "So you won't have to deal with this day to day bullshit like I do. You'll have a real nice career with the Air Force. I wish I would've done the same."

My parents don't have enough money to send all of us to university, so the Air Force is it for us. I don't really want to go into the military, but I can't ever say that to my dad. I don't know what exactly I want to do yet, but I do know that I don't want to have to wear a uniform every day. Maybe there's something wrong with me, because everyone else in my family is all gung-ho about the Air Force, even my mom. She already has pictures of Raymond and Roger in their uniforms on the mantel in the living room. 

And even worse than that, I don't think I like girls. I've tried to off and on over the last year, but I discovered I'd rather be with Colin. We've been dating for about nine months now. And that's another thing I'd definitely never be able to tell my dad. I'm not sure what he'd be madder about: me and Colin, or me not wanting to join the Air Force. 

"You mark my words, son," my dad continues, poking me in the chest. "If you can get into the Air Force, you'll be set for life. You won't have to work at a fish plant like this anymore."

"Yes, sir," I say, looking down at my feet. I hate that I'm only fourteen years old and it seems like my entire life has already been decided for me.

My dad tells me he wants me to mop all of the bathrooms. It's not the best thing to start the day on, but it's better than standing in front of him feeling guilty because I can't quite be what he expects me to be. I head off in search of a mop and bucket and try not to think about all of the things I have to hide from him and from the rest of my family. Sometimes it feels like the weight of having too many secrets is going to crush me one day. 

The next few hours fly by, and before I know it, it's time for me to knock off for the day. I make a break for the time clock, eager to punch out at last. "Hey, what's the hurry, son?" my dad asks from behind me, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Oh, Colin and I are going to the beach today," I say as I turn to face him. Colin's going to meet me outside, and then his mom's giving us a ride to the beach. My heart is floating at just the thought of seeing that sweet smile of his. 

"The beach, eh?" my dad says, giving me a knowing grin, complete with an eyebrow waggle. "Going to pick up a few girls?" 

"Yeah, sure," I say, forcing myself to laugh. 

My dad laughs too, and slaps me on the back so hard he almost knocks the wind out of me. "A couple bucks like you should have no problem in that department. You should be beating 'em off with a stick." 

"Right, Dad," I say with another weak chuckle. "Beating 'em off with a stick."

"Well, you're only young once, so enjoy it. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do, all right?" 

"Okay," I agree, and I turn away before he can see the tears standing out in my eyes. 

I wish I could just tell him, but I know that I can't. I'm afraid he won't love me anymore. I'm afraid I'll never be good enough as I am. 

By the time I find Colin I'm okay again, but it still hurts a bit. He lights up when he sees me, and I can't help but return his delight, taking in the summer tan he's sporting. "Ry!" he says, launching himself at me.

I clap him on the back in a quick, manly hug, because there are workers milling everywhere. "Hey, Col," I whisper against his shoulder, relishing the feel of him in my arms, even if it's only for a few seconds. I can smell the coconut suntan lotion he's got on underneath his shirt. 

"Those your swim trunks?" he says as we both let go, gesturing to the plastic bag in one of my hands.

"Yeah. Where're yours?" 

"I'm wearing 'em," he says with a laugh, peeling back his jean shorts just enough for me to get a peek of blue nylon underneath. 

"Is it a Speedo?" I say, and I'm only half kidding.

"Ugh, you wish," he says, shoving me. 

"What? You'd look good in a Speedo," I say, and he would. He's lost a lot of his babyfat in the past year, and I definitely think he could pull it off. 

He just rolls his eyes at me as we approach his mom's car. But I can see the blush staining his cheeks even as we pile into the backseat.

We both say hi to his mom and then we're off for a few fun-filled hours at the beach. Since it's Friday, I don't have to work tomorrow. So I'm sleeping over at Colin's house tonight. We're going to camp in his dad's tent again, and I for one can't wait. It's the first time we've camped out together this summer, and in my head I'm already making plans for how we're going to spend the evening. 

Colin's mom lets us out near the boardwalk, telling us she'll be back to pick us up at four o'clock. "Have a good time, dear boys!" she calls as she pulls away. 

We both wave at her until the car disappears from view, and then Colin turns to look at me. "We need to find someplace to change," he says.

I start dragging him over to a phone booth, and it only takes him a moment to get what I'm doing. "We're not superheroes," he says, laughing at me. 

"We could be _unlikely_ superheroes," I argue.

He gives me the onceover, inspecting my skinny limbs. "Very unlikely," he says with a mock grimace as he picks up one of my arms. 

"Hey!" I say, snatching my arm back. 

He laughs, dancing away from me before I can reach him. When he glances over his shoulder at me I realize that he wants me to chase him, which I gladly do. I love chasing Colin, because he laughs so hard, like he thinks he's really getting away with something. Sometimes chasing him is even better than catching him. 

But eventually I do catch him, and the catching is pretty great too. We wind up underneath the boardwalk, kissing each other in the dim light filtering through the slats. I can hear people's footfalls above us, raining bits of sand down on our heads with every step, but somehow I don't mind. Who needs swimming? This is right where I want to be, with Colin's soft lips pressed against mine. 

What can I say? It's the middle of summer, and I'm in love. 

Eventually we do go swimming. But first we have a couple of hot dogs from a cart on the boardwalk, and then we share a paper basket full of fries. After our swim we head back to the boardwalk, where we wind up buying each other puka shell necklaces, which are all the rage this summer. His hand shakes a bit as he ties the necklace around my neck, and I can't help letting my hand cover his for just a few seconds. His eyes slide shut as I return the favor, wrapping his necklace around his neck and tying it off behind him. His skin is warm from the sun, and I can feel his pulse beating against my fingers, delicate and alive. I want to kiss him, but there are too many people around, so instead I just run my fingers across the nape of his neck where his hair curls, until he shivers against me. 

By that time it's almost four, so we decide to head back to where Colin's mom dropped us off earlier in the day. We didn't have time to change out of our swim trunks, but that's okay. They're pretty much dry now, thanks to the afternoon heat. 

The next few hours are pretty uneventful. We ride back to Colin's house together, laughing and jabbing each other in the back seat, taking turns telling Colin's mom stupid jokes. Colin's younger brother and sister are staying with their grandparents this weekend, so we don't have to worry about them bothering us either. We eat dinner with Colin's parents, and it's always so _nice_ having dinner at Colin's house. His family chats politely about all kinds of things, and they actually seem to enjoy listening to each other talk. And they even take the time to talk to _me_ , making me feel like I'm actually a part of the family, which is amazing to me, since I have to yell over everybody at the table to be heard when I'm eating dinner with my own family. Even when his siblings are there, no one burps the alphabet or starts a thumb wrestling match in the middle of dessert like my stupid brothers usually do. And maybe I wouldn't like all of that quiet civility all of the time, but it's good for a change of pace, anyway. 

After dinner, Colin and I settle into the tent for the night. His parents are watching tv together, so hopefully they'll leave us alone for the rest of the night. We have plenty of drinks and snacks out here, several flashlights and the lantern, our sleeping bags, extra blankets and pillows, and most importantly, us. 

We play a few games of Crazy Eights and share a bag of potato chips between us. Then we zip together our sleeping bags like we always do, and Colin reaches up to turn off the lantern. It's a hot night, so both of us peel off our shirts, and then we collapse onto our backs beside each other with happy sighs. He pulls me towards him like he wants me closer, and I oblige, wrapping one arm across his bare shoulder to pull him against me. His answering sigh pressed against the side of my neck sends that Colin-flutter shooting through my stomach like Cupid's arrow. 

I trace Colin's new puka shell necklace, enjoying the cool smoothness of the white shells underneath my fingers. "This looks _really_ nice on you," I whisper against his ear.

I feel his smile curving against my neck, making me shudder. "Thanks," he whispers back, tracing circles against my bare shoulderblades. He glides his fingers up to the nape of my neck, touching the knotted hemp of my own necklace. "Yours is nice too."

"I'm never taking this off," I promise him. 

"Me neither," he agrees, trading grins with me. 

His lips find mine in the semi-darkness and I lose myself in kissing him for a while. My entire body feels weightless, like I'm still floating in the ocean, with only his kisses to keep me from drowning. His bare skin slides against mine, so warm that I almost can't breathe. Literally all that's between us is a couple pairs of cotton shorts, and I can't stand it anymore. I have to do something else, but I don't know what. Then I remember hearing the guys in the locker room at school, bragging about how they felt up one girl or another. I didn't pay too much attention at the time, but now it gives me an idea... 

I skate my hand across the front of Colin's shorts, wanting to touch what I've been feeling against me for so long. He gasps and freezes, shooting me an alarmed look. I smile at him and he relaxes into me, allowing me to palm over the tent in his shorts, slow and careful. After a few seconds his hand tentatively reaches down, and I let out an involuntary moan when I feel his fingers closing around me. We're not kissing anymore, we're just kind of watching each other's faces while we explore. But somehow having Colin's hand on me, and my hand on him, feels even better to me than every kiss we've ever exchanged. I wonder what would happen if we did this _while_ we kissed, and just the thought of it makes me burn. 

I want to touch him like that forever but after a minute I pull my hand back, and he does the same. We stare at each other for a few minutes, appraising each other with blinking eyes. I guess neither one of us knows quite what to say or do next. We've never gone this far with each other before. Then he sighs and falls into my arms, nuzzling his cheek against my bare shoulder, and I know that he's still my best friend. 

We lay like that for a long time, with me stroking his back, until our breathing slows down to normal. "We should sleep," he finally says, pulling away to look at me.

"Yeah, okay," I say, and my voice is all croaky, like a frog's. 

He turns over onto his other side and pulls me against his back, because sometimes he likes it when I spoon him. So I wrap my arms around his chest, and I'm not at all surprised when one of his hands folds into mine. I close my eyes and all I can think about is how he felt against my hand, how his hand felt on me, and how much I want to do that again for even longer next time... 

The next thing I know it's dawn, and the first birds are starting to sing in the trees surrounding the tent. Colin is still fast asleep, curled in my arms right where we left each other. I can feel him shivering against me, so without opening my eyes I press my chest closer against his back, wrapping him tighter into me for warmth. I open my eyes into the faint light of the tent, smiling down at him like an idiot and humming a bit in the back of my throat, all because I'm holding him like this and it feels so _right_. I realize that as far as I'm concerned, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. Like, to the point where I could die in this moment and I would be completely okay with that. 

I don't know how I'm going to do it yet, but as I look down at my sleeping best friend with the fiercest love that I have ever felt, I vow to myself that I will take care of him for the rest of our lives. It should scare me, because we're so young, and maybe I'm too young to be thinking this way. I know my parents would never believe it. They'd laugh at me and call me a fool, say I don't know what love is, that I'm just a kid. And maybe that's true, maybe I am just a kid, but it doesn't mean that I'm not feeling what I'm feeling. It doesn't mean that what Colin and I have isn't real. 

I hear something shuffle along the edge of the tent, and my heart skips in my chest. With wide eyes I realize Colin's mom is picking up his dirty clothes from the floor of the tent. Her eyes meet mine and terror paralyzes me, because I know she saw. She saw what I was doing with her son, and I brace myself for what's coming next. She's going to yell, she's going to call my parents, I'm going to get my ass kicked, and I don't even know what else, but I'm sure it's going to be a shitshow. 

I don't know if I'm dreaming or what, because all she does is look at me with those mild brown eyes, so much like Colin's. She crouches down beside me and pats my arm, smiling at me like nothing is wrong. "It's all right, dear Ryan. It's all right. Back to sleep with you now," she says in her gentle Scottish accent. 

I'm blinking at her like she's an alien, but then she smiles at me again, and I can tell she's trying to put me at ease, so I give her a tentative smile in return. "Go on now, close your eyes," she says, still patting me. "It's all right, I promise."

I close my eyes, my heart still beating like a jackhammer against my ribcage. She pats my arm for a few more seconds, and then I hear a rustle, and the zipper of the tent sliding open and shut. 

It's another secret, one that I'm not entirely sure how to deal with. I try to convince myself it was just a dream as I shift into Colin once more, squeezing his warm body against mine. And in a matter of minutes I'm asleep again, the weight of all of my secrets at least temporarily relieved.


End file.
